


Bullfighter Jacket

by Anonymous



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Asphyxiation, BDSM, BDSM Boyfriends, Breathplay, Dom!Brian, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, FaceFucking, Kink, M/M, Orgasm Control, Praise Kink, Sub!Pat, Subspace, fluff?, gagging, gendered slurs, hairpulling, here we go folks, if i missed any fill out your bingo card and get back to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Brian's wearing a worn white t-shirt that might actually belong to Pat, and jorts cut at an appealing mid-thigh length that are definitely not Pat's.





	Bullfighter Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking the express elevator down to trashtown with this one folks, buckle up.  
> Also I feel the need to say if you want to try breathplay 1) Don't 2) Research the hell out of it. okay, good, no dead teens on my watch. 
> 
> I don't know why I decided to make Pat and Brian danger sex boys, but here we are.

A rivulet of sweat trickled down Pat's back as he kneeled on his bedroom floor, the surprising heat of the early spring day still clung to the building even as cooler night air was ushered in by the small fan by the window. He shivered as the sweat pass between his shoulder blades, felt it collect where his forearms connected with his lower back as he held them there, waiting with anxious lust; Pat loves and hates the feeling, his brain putting out improbable what ifs, as if Pat's roommate isn't spending the weekend with his family and has a penchant for barging into Pat's room without knocking, neither of which are true. He combats this with focusing on the person who's actually coming to find him naked and kneeling, who'd told him to do so. 

He hears the apartment door open and takes a steadying breath. Hears Brian greet Charlie sweetly and can't help but roll his eyes even as his heart aches with affection for the man; Brian likes to make him wait, knows it drives him mad, but also genuinely greets Charlie with the same enthusiasm regardless of Pat's state. 

He listens to Brian shuffle about, and after a long five minutes Pat's bedroom door opens, Brian entering and closing it with his hip as his eyes latch onto Pat, liquid and dark in the lamplight as he drinks in the sight before him. Brian's obvious hunger never fails to thrill and embarrass Pat at the same time, still getting used to being so obviously coveted. He feels the blush break out across already warm skin, colouring his chest and splashing across his cheekbones. Brian's wearing a worn white t-shirt that might actually belong to Pat, and jorts cut at an appealing mid-thigh length that are definitely not Pat's. His fingers itch to slid under the frayed hems, to splay across the vulnerably pale skin there, knead the firm muscle beneath; he tightens his hold on his forearms instead.

Brian approaches him with the same casual air he has when Pat's sitting at his work desk, and why wouldn't he? Pat's doing exactly what he asked, presenting himself the way Brian instructed, meeting his expectations. Pat feels the anxiety fizzle away as Brian hums in approval, running a hand across Pat's chest before taking his chin in hand and tilting it up, sure grip forcing Pat to look into his eyes, as if Pat could look elsewhere. 

"You're such a good boy, Pat, waiting here just how I asked; just how I want you." He rubs a thumb roughly across Pat's lower lip in a way that makes Pat's cock twitch, mouth opening of its own volition and closing around Brian's thumb before he can think of taking it away. Pat's tongue traces thoroughly along the digit, as Brian pushes it further in his mouth, moving it murmuring appreciatively as Pat chases it. 

The noise it makes when Brian pulls it from his mouth as Pat is swallowing around it is obscene and Brian's gutted whisper of "fuck" is all the warning Pat gets before his face is pressed into stiff denim, a guiding hand threading into the hair at the base of his skull and finding its home there as Brian's other hand remains on the side of Pat's face, ensuring he's not going anywhere without Brian's allowance. 

Pat doesn't try to stop the soft groan that bubbles up at the treatment, turning his head into Brian's thigh as best he can, relishing in the distinct feel of Brian's hardening cock against his face and the dull pain from pulling against the hand in in his hair.

"You want my cock that badly huh?" Brian asks conversationally, if a bit breathless as he pulls Pat away from his thigh, Pat still straining against his grip eyes locked on the bulge he'd been nuzzling against. Feels saliva pool in his mouth as he yearns for the familiar taste and weight of Brian's cock. 

Pat had never envisioned himself as a cockwhore but he also hadn't foreseen falling in love with a beautiful man who made him want to fall to his knees with a single glance. He swallows and nods as much as the hand in his hair will allow him and looks up at Brian.

"Yes. Please." He implores, not bothering to keep the desperation out of his voice. Shame distantly rises to the surface of his skin, like carbonation, popping and fizzling away harmlessly, no room for it between them. Brian's hand leaves his jaw, single hand deft but slow as he unbuttons his fly and frees his cock, only bothering to push the shorts down enough to get them out of the way. The action is strangely endearing to Pat, a sign that Brian is just as keyed up as he is.

Brian takes himself in hand on a shaky exhale, can't help but pump his cock a couple times as Pat can only watch, wetting his lips. Brian teases his cock along Pat's partially open mouth. Pat doesn't chase it even as he wants to, just gazes up at Brian, waiting.

"Open." Pat's jaw slackens.

"Good boy," Brian murmurs. "Whose mouth is this?"

"Yours," Pat replies quiet and sure.

"Very good," Brian practically purrs. "And what can I do with my mouth?"

"Anything. Anything you want, sir." 

"That's what I like to hear." Brian tells him, guides his cock between Pat's lips and moving his hand to wrap around his jaw once more, guiding Pat's mouth onto his cock. Pat's lips close around it hungrily, heeding the hand in his hair as he gets pulled further down Brian's cock as Brian thrusts into his mouth. Pat let's Brian use his mouth, swallowing around the length in his mouth sloppily, tongue running along every inch he's given and soon Brian's fucking his mouth wholeheartedly and Pat's world narrows down to the slick weight in his mouth, and the low groans of pleasure from above him. 

Tears prick at the corner of Pat's eyes as the head of Brian's cock bumps roughly against the back of his throat, but Pat ignores them, leans into it, let's Brian take him pleasure from him with abandon. 

The hand on Pat's jaw moves lower, loosely wrapped around Pat's neck and Brian's thrusts slow purposely. 

"I'm going to fuck your throat," Brian tells him, Pat's moan cut off as his nose is buried in the sparse dark blond hair above Brian's cock. He holds Pat there, stoking his throat as Pat focuses on keeping his gag reflex under control, dizzy with the sudden lack of air and how hard he is. He coughs and gasps when Brian pulls him off, his cock, a thick strand of saliva keeping the connection with his ruined mouth. Brian let's him breath, transfixed with the sight before him.

"More," Pat asks hoarsely. Brian grins wickedly and Pat is impossibly turned on, cants his hips uselessly, his ignored cock now dribbling precum.

"Such a good little slut." The praise sings along his skin. Pat practically dives for Brian's cock when he guides him back to it, craving the fullness, the way Brian's grip remains fast even as Pat chokes and the oxygen in his lungs depletes, blunt nails digging into his own forearms behind his back.

"You want this more than air hmm? Need my cock down your throat that badly?" Pat moans as best he can even as his throat protests. Doesn't struggle; trust in Brian negating the panic his body's telling him he should feel. 

Brian pulls him off again, gaze molten. 

"God you're gorgeous." Brian slides the head of his cock along the length of Pat's tongue a few times. Precum drools steadily onto its surface and Pat groans helplessly, feverish with want. 

"Fuck Pat." He pulls him back onto his cock, thrusts shallow and becoming erratic. 

"You're going to take every drop of this," Brian instructs him, before pulling him down for a final time, finishing with a shout and sharp snap of his hips, cock pulsing in Pat's throat; it works around Brian's cock reflexively and Brian swears at the sensation even as he doesn't pull Pat off right away, gutted by orgasm. 

Pat's vision is bleary and it's all he can do to catch his breath, heaving wet gasps. Brian slides down onto his knees in front of Pat, peppers kisses along his brow, his cheeks, his nose before capturing Pat's slick too red lips between his own hungrily, Brian's tongue deftly sliding against Pat's. The hand in his hair releases it's grip, massaging his abused scalp as the other roams Pat's chest, rough edges of bitten nails catching against his skin in unexpected, welcome ways.

Pat is only half aware that he's started rocking his hips again, small aborted movements. Brian's hand traces lower lazily: across Pat's abdomen, causing the muscles to contract and twitch; across Pat's hips, causing him to whimper into Brian's mouth. He feels Brian's smile before he sees it, watching dazedly as Brian pulls back to watch his face, repeating the action, smile falling from his face as its replaced with lust at the broken noise Pat makes.

"Fuck Pat you're such a mess and I haven't even touched your cock yet. Such a good boy for me." Brian leans in, lips brushing Pat's neck gingerly, causing him to shudder head rolling to the side to allow Brian greater access, which he takes advantage of immediately, lighting biting Pat's pulse point, flattening his tongue to taste the salt there before leaning back once more.

"You haven't even tried to move your hands yet; can you feel your arms? Move them as much as you have to to check." Brian tells him. Pat grateful for the simple phrasing, the express permission. He jostles his arms a bit; they're a tad sore from holding the position but otherwise awake and functional, despite him forgetting their existence. 

"Good?" Brian asks peering into Pat's eyes. Pat nods. Brian slaps him lightly.

"You know better than that, baby. Use your words."

"Yes. Yes, sir." 

"Good, thank you." Brian told him before wrapping long fingers around Pat's cock, grip sure and exquisite, the breath rushing from Pat's lungs in a sob.

"Easy, easy." Brian soothes. Pat's not sure he's able to comply, breathless whimpers tumbling from his lips as he revels in the sensation of finally being touched.

"Your cock's so wet, jesus. do you even have any cum left for me?" Brian's steady pace slows, grip loosening. "or should we call it a night?"

"please, please let me come, sir." Pat begs, biting down on a frustrated whine when Brian's grip continues to loosen. Brian's unoccupied hand slides to the front of Pat's neck, touch light but sure as always. He leans back into Pat's space, planting kisses along his jaw, his voice soft and low as he enquires, "do you want me to let you come or do you want me to make you come?"

"I want you to make me come, sir." Brian's pleased purr of understanding tells Pat he made the right choice, feels Brian's teeth close around the lobe of his ear and tug lightly. Pat groans at the odd sensation, the warm puff of breath behind his ear. Brian releases it momentarily, grip tightening on his cock once more, pace slowly increasing.

"Of course you want me to make you come." Brian murmurs, "You want me to milk your cock until it's spent and useless." Pat moans, Brian's words slipping down his spine tantalizingly. "You're such a good little slut for it, and you ask so nicely, it's only fair." 

The grip on his neck tightens in a calculated manner, Pat's hips bucking into Brian's fist even as the restricted blood flow makes him dizzy.

"Fuck Pat, you should see yourself. wish I could keep you like this, gagging for it, living for my hand around your cock even as I choke you out." Brian's words sound distant, even though he's inches from Brian's face. Pat's vision is beginning to darken around the edges and a hum rises in his ears as he feels himself tumbling forward into twin dark pools.

"Come." 

Pat's orgasm tears through him at the word, Brian releasing his grip on Pat's throat and using it to steady Pat as he works him through his orgasm. Pat tips forward gasping, breaking, burying his face into the crook of Brian's shoulder. Brian mercifully releases Pat's cock at the first jolt of overstimulation, wiping his hand off on his shirt before wrapping his arms around Pat, making soothing noises and showering him in quiet praise.

"I got you Pat," Brian murmurs. "It's okay, you're okay."

Pat's confused by the words until he realizes that he's crying. 

"It's the endorphins, it's totally normal."

Pat could give a fuck to be honest, feels like he'll float away if Brian let's go of him, let's his eyes do what they want.

"Let your arms go, Pat." Brian tells him gently, and Pat does, the dull ache from holding them in the same awkward position bringing him back into his body somewhat. He wraps his arms around Brian wordlessly. Brian hums, runs unhurried hands across every stretch of skin they can reach. 

"I love you but I don't want to sleep on this floor tonight Pat. Let's try getting up, hm?" Brian says gently. 

Pat obliges, releasing Brian so that he can stand. Pat's legs feel like noodles as Brian helps him up. Luckily Brian seems to have anticipated this, pulling Pat to his feet with minimal effort on Pat's behalf, guiding Pat to his bed. Pat stretches out on his back, content to bask in the quiet of subspace, since Brian basically sent him to the ocean floor.

He watches Brian putter about the room, cleaning up after them at a languid pace, like a Good Boyfriend screensaver. He has the same routine whenever they do something like this  
and Pat's not sure if he does it consciously to appeal to Pat's subspace brain or it's just part of the wonderfully weird man. 

Brian returns from the bathroom with water and advil Pat dutifully complies, chugging the glass while Brian giggles at his melodramatic ass before sliding under the cool cotton sheet to join Pat, naked, pliant, and warm. Pat wraps him up in his limbs almost immediately Brian welcoming it, hums as Pat contently melds to his side despite the warm weather and drifts off to the noises of the relatively quiet neighborhood.

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to this is Brian making Pat bacon and eggs and then they talk about how the scene went and then end up having significantly less risky morning sex. the end. 
> 
> HEY COPS
> 
> Any Resemblance to Actual Persons, Living or Dead, is Purely Coincidental


End file.
